Chapter 264: Broken Contracts

*Ling Yue’s POV*

The sound of running water in the bathroom stops.

A few moments later, the door opens, sending a cloud of warm, scented steam drifting out into the bedroom.

I don’t move. I stay flat on my back, my bare chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths as I stare at the crystal droplets on the chandelier overhead. My body still hums with that heavy, liquid exhaustion. The skin on my wrists is raw, my inner thighs are burning, and the bite on my shoulder throbs with every beat of my heart.

My body hums with that deep heat that always follows our sessions.

In fact, as my senses clear, I realize something infuriating: Jin Hao had actually gone easy on me tonight.

For all his fierce posturing and possessive growls, he hadn’t made me kneel. He hadn’t brought out the soft whip or forced me to beg on my knees like he usually would when he wanted total discipline. Our sex life had always been intense—a shared, uninhibited dynamic of strict control and raw surrender that I craved just as much as he did.

My resistance tonight wasn’t because I hated the leather or the impact. I fought him because my pride refused to let me enjoy our bed when another person’s name was tied to his in public.

Footsteps stop at the edge of the mattress.

Jin Hao stands beside the bed, a towel wrapped low around his hips, holding a basin of warm water and a soft cloth. He kneels on the mattress, reaching out to clean the slick drying between my thighs.

I snap my knees together, turning my face toward the pillow. "Touch me and I’ll bite you."

Jin Hao doesn’t even flinch. Without a word, he slides his hand under my knees, using his sheer physical strength to force my legs back open. He pins my thighs in place with one forearm, ignoring my weak kicks as he wipes my skin down with firm, thorough strokes.

"Hold still," he murmurs, his voice low and thick with post-release warmth. He leans down, pressing a hard kiss to the side of my neck right over his bite mark. "You have no idea how much I missed you."

I swallow hard, my eyes burning as I glare at the wall. "Go back to your upcoming wedding, Jin Hao. I’m not playing side-chick to your fiancé."

Jin Hao wrings out the cloth into the basin with a soft splash. He sets it on the nightstand, then shifts his weight, leaning over me until his heavy frame completely traps me against the mattress.

"There is no wedding," Jin Hao says quietly. "The engagement announcement was canceled yesterday."

I go completely still.

I slowly turn my head to look at him. His eyes are fixed on mine, steady and entirely unbothered.

"What?" I whisper.

"Tang Suyi and I made a deal three months ago to satisfy our family heads," Jin Hao explains, his thumb slowly tracing my lower lip. "We agreed to let our families release a public statement about an upcoming engagement so we could finalize a joint business merger without outside interference. Neither of us ever intended to walk down an aisle."

He leans closer, his palm coming down flat against my chest, feeling the heavy rise and fall of my breathing.

"The announcement was meant to stay active for six months, but while you were hiding away at the Wuchen estate, I rushed the final transfers and closed the deal in two. The statement was retracted yesterday. It’s done."

He chuckles softly, a dark, low sound in his chest, at my frozen expression. "Did you really think I’d let my family tell me who I’m allowed to keep in my bed?"

My throat tightens until it aches. The shock and disbelief of that terrible phone call two months ago rush back, flooding my chest with fresh poison.

"What the hell—? Then why didn’t you tell me?" My voice cracks, sharp and trembling with built-up rage. "That day when the news broke... you called me. You told me it was true. You told me she was going to be your public fiancée, and that I should just stay in the dark and be okay with it! Why didn’t you just tell me it was a fake deal?"

Jin Hao frowns slightly, genuinely surprised by the fire in my eyes. To him, it’s purely logical.

"Because it was business, Ling Yue. It wasn’t something to take so seriously," Jin Hao answers, his tone completely matter-of-fact. "It was just a corporate arrangement. How was I supposed to know you were such a skittish wild animal that you’d pack your bags and run the second you heard it?"

A skittish wild animal.

He thought I was just being dramatic. He thought my heartbreak, my crushed pride, and the tears I shed were just an overreaction to a minor business tactic. He never considered my feelings for a single second—he just expected me to sit obediently on his shelf and accept being hidden away until he decided he was done playing his corporate games.

I stare up at him, a cold, empty silence settling deep in my chest.

"I see," I say softly.

"It’s handled now," Jin Hao says, entirely unaware of the shift inside me. He pulls the duvet over us both and slides into bed, wrapping a massive arm around my waist to pull my back flush against his warm chest. "You’re back where you belong. Now let’s sleep."

He buries his face in the crook of my neck, his weight locking me in place. Within ten minutes, his breathing slows into a deep, steady rhythm.

I stare at the nightstand beside the bed, at the brass ring on the headboard, the wet cloth in the basin, and the faint glint of silver where his key ring rests on the dark wood.

I wait. I count every slow beat of his heart against my shoulder blades.

Twenty minutes later.

I carefully take his wrist, lifting his arm off my waist little by little, and slide out from beneath the duvet without making a sound.

My feet hit the cold floor. Wearing only an oversized button-up shirt I pulled from his wardrobe, I reach toward the nightstand. Right beside the damp cloth and the leather strap, my fingers close around his key ring—the key to his car parked in the courtyard below.

I scoop the cold metal into my palm, curling my fingers tightly around it to stop the keys from clinking together.

I glide out of the bedroom, down the silent marble hallway, and slip through the side glass door into the night air.

The night wind hits my bare legs as I walk across the gravel, unlock the sleek black vehicle, and climb into the driver’s seat.

I insert the key and press the ignition. The engine turns over with a quiet, powerful growl that vibrates through the frame. The clock on the dashboard glows 11:04 PM.

Before shifting into drive, I look back once through the windshield at the dark window of his suite.

Yep. I’m running again.